Mass Effect (Relay Monument Incident): 2184: Ontarom · James and Ashley

[camalyng]

"I can't believe you drink Paragade," says James, shaking his head as Ashley sullenly sips on her third vodka and Paragade. "Tupari's the way to go."

"You are not the first person to tell me that," she says. "What's wrong with Paragade?"

He shrugs. "It's a self respect thing."

"You're not even the first person to tell me that," she says, her smile rather more bitter than he'd expected. "Besides, what do you care about self respect? You're the one trying to get me drunk here."

She's been doing a damn good job getting drunk on her own: He ordered the first round of beers, seeing as this is his goodbye drinks, but she's been buying her vodka and Paragades in between the rounds the guys have been buying. The only thing he had to try to do was get her off-base.

"Whoa, chica, I completely respect you," he says. "You've made where you stand on the fraternization regs muy claro, and that's cool. I'm just trying to get you to relax."

Ashley finishes her vodka and Paragade, and grabs his tequila. He lets her have it. "I am perfectly relaxed."

"Ash, I only got my reassignment to Fehl Prime two days ago, and you've been moping around for two months," he says. "You frown every time you check your omni-tool or so much as look at a terminal. ¿Que pasa? Did you break up with your boyfriend or something?"

"He's not my boyfriend," she says, like she's been saying for the last four months.

"Any more," James supplies.

"He was never my boyfriend," says Ashley. "And he's never going to be my boyfriend."

"He's missing out like the rest of us," he says.

"Nah," she says. "Unlike the rest of you, he got a two day stand out of me."

"Lucky bastard," he says, not really meaning it. "How'd he do it?"

Ashley squints at him over the tequila. "What, James, you trying to get your own not girlfriend?

"Nah, I stopped that when I enlisted," he says, and she nods approvingly. "Just curious. I mean, the hell is a two day stand?"

She finishes off the tequila and orders a line of shots before she explains.

"Step one: Get suuuuper drunk instead of killing yourself," she says, and takes a shot. James remembers with dismay that she'd barely touched her dinner. Muy bien, Vega, take the hungry girl out drinking and watch her drink too much too fast. He starts moving the shots away from her, drinking one so she can't have it. "Step two: Discuss cultural differences in affection and foreplay."

As she downs a shot he's left behind, James blinks. "How many cultural differences in affection and foreplay are there? What, is he an alien or something?"

Ashley's face crumples until she looks up, her expression steely, and swipes back the shots, drinking all three in succession, which is answer enough.

"Holy shit," he says. Their jackass CO on Eden Prime had always cited her past as an excuse for the way he treated her, and for Ash to go fall for an alien anyway... Just for good measure, he repeats, "Holy shit."

"It doesn't matter," she mutters.

"Shit, Ash, tell me he's not a turian." He's not racist, but he knows her grandfather was General Williams.

Ashley signals the bartender. "It doesn't matter," she repeats. "Because he isn't fucking writing back!"

She orders another vodka and Paragade. James catches the bartender's eye and tries to shake his head without her noticing.

"We're out of Paragade," says the bartender. James could kiss him.

"With fucking Tupari, then," Ashley snaps, and the bartender shrugs helplessly at James before going to make it. "There's your damn self respect, Vega."

Briefly, James considers starting a Tupari vs. Paragade argument to distract her from drinking, but decides it wouldn't work. "Yeah, well, sounds like your not boyfriend doesn't have any respect for you," he says instead. "What kind of pendejo doesn't write back to his girl?"

"A turian pendejo," she says darkly, and he winces, harder when he sees a turian bartender giving her a dirty look.

"Hey, look, a turian, perfect," he says, waving the bartender over. "Compadre! Would you know why a turian guy would stop writing back to his penpal?"

"Uh, maybe for racism," the bartender says, and he thinks this is the first female turian he's met. "How should I know?"

"Never mind," he says.

The bartender rolls her eyes, but as she starts to leave, Ashley stumbles to her feet. "You know what I miss about my stupid turian? Headbutts!"

"That is a turian thing, but she is wasted," the bartender says, looking at James. "Get her out of here before I throw her out."

Ashley spins his stool towards her before he can answer, tiptoeing and almost falling into his arms to headbutt him, no force behind it. The bartender gives a bright, two-toned cackle.

"We used to do this and then just talk," Ashley says, still in his face. What the hell, turians. "Cultural exchange, dead CO, whatever."

"Talking," James echoes, grasping at straws. "Great. Let's talk, Ash. Let's go talk on base. I wanna call it quits for tonight."

She pouts and pulls away. "Screw you. You drag me out here for your goodbye drinks and now you wanna go home early?"

"I'm just not feeling it," he says. Well, he'll probably come back once he knows she's okay on base. "C'mon, I'm gonna get Osoba to drive."

"No," she says. "I don't have my vodka and Tupari."

He sighs. "They're not gonna serve you, Ash."

Ashley sways, and points in the bartenders' direction. "Screw you guys," she says. "Can't believe I miss Chora's Den right now."

"Hey, Osoba, let's take our girl home," James calls out, before throwing her over his shoulder in a fireman's lift and starting to carry her out.

"Fuck!" she exclaims, punching his back. "Put me down! I'm gonna kick your ass."

"Yeah, that really makes me want to put you down," he says. "Shit, you're heavier than you look."

"That is exactly why you don't have a girl," she says. "But it's all muscle. Solid steel."

She elbows his head once they're outside. They struggle, she manages to get in an irrelevant "I've fought like a hundred krogans!" (he doesn't doubt her, but he's sure she fought them with guns), and eventually she gets free of him, but runs off instead of kicking his ass.

"Goddamnit, Ash," he mutters, before calling, "Ash! Williams!"

Even wasted, she's got a head start on him, and she's always been fast; it's no wonder she survived the geth attack at Eden Prime. When Bilal, one of the squad's sober drivers for the night, finally makes it outside ("thanks for the backup!"), he tells him to take the car and do an aerial scan for Ashley. This has to be a new low in skycar use with drunken squadmates.

Fifteen minutes later, James follows the muttering about turians and the glow of an omni-tool to find Ashley sitting in the middle of a back road typing on her omni-tool. Besides the setting, this is a very familiar sight, if one that's become less and less common in the last two months. The whole unit's wondered why she only ever wrote to the guy who's not her boyfriend when she's always vidmailing her family; the popular theory had been the romance of old fashioned letter writing with the convenience of modern technology. The granddaughter of General Williams not wanting to show off her communication with a turian makes a hell of a lot more sense.

"Ash," he says, holding a hand out to her.

"Go away," she says, without looking through the screen. "I'm writing an e-mail."

And damn, but isn't that familiar too. Usually he goes away, because she's hard to distract when she's writing, but this time he stands watch, keeping an eye out for cars until she finishes. It's only then that she takes his hand and gets up.

"C'mon, mija," he says, squeezing her shoulder with his other hand. "Let's go home."

"My home got blown up so badly they can't find the wreckage," she says, but she takes his arm this time as they go to rendezvous with Bilal.